We didn’t see this year coming, but we heard it from all sides. In Signal & Noise 2016, you’ll find the way we made sense out of all of that sound.

Looking back at this year in Lady Problems, one thing is abundantly clear: I have solved sexism. No, no, please, don't thank me. Thank the ghost ship that has been ferrying Woody Allen to his slow, watery demise for the past seven months. Thank Reservoir Bitches, the all-female remake of Reservoir Dogs. Thank the men who have spent the duration of 2016 wandering the streets, chewing on broken Manolos, screaming, "I couldn't help but wonder!!!!" Thank the molten pussy of Mother Earth, which will swallow Donald Trump whole very soon, hopefully today. And thank yourselves, for consuming my demented thoughts each week and then going out into the world and being staunch feminazi propagandists.

In the spirit of gratitude, I'd like to dole out a few awards to the Lady Problems subjects who, 100 percent inadvertently, helped me eradicate the worldwide gender power imbalance. These brave men and men (and, like, two women) did things that were so patently fucked-up that everyone on Earth, finally shaken to their very cores, agreed to discard systemic misogyny forever and ever, amen.

Thank you, Chris Harrison, for spending your time on this Earth building a castle made of your own teeth and making women feel bad for having personalities that extend beyond "loving dolphins." Never has a human male, given the Satanic gift of immortality in exchange for his soul, bungled the opportunity more profoundly.

Thank you, Alejandro González Iñárritu, for filming the stupidest movie I've ever seen for $150 million, then making $400 million off of it, but never paying or even crediting Doreen Nutaaq Simmonds, whose voice and culture you exploited to make said stupid movie seem more "authentic." Also, thanks for putting Leonardo DiCaprio inside a horse. I mean that.

Thank you, Miley Cyrus, for inexplicably posting a terrifying photo of ex-meth-head Jodie Sweetin straddling a man with another man's face superimposed onto his face, then doubling down on said photo by calling your own Instagram followers "freaks" for not recognizing that "Stephanie is having a fucking gay ol time!" This was a really confusing way to kick off Lady Problems, and I appreciate that.

TechCrunch Disrupt is a popular Silicon Valley event attended almost exclusively by white men. Thank you, TechCrunch Disrupt, for reminding me to disrupt my natural life.

Most Recurring Lady Problems Character Who Somehow Hasn’t Died Yet: Woody Allen

Thank you, Woody Allen, for moving "so far past" your child-molestation charges. For "empowering women" by marrying your own stepdaughter and then casting Blake Lively in something. For being a white savior to said stepdaughter wife. For driving Justin Timberlake to drink. For saying, "You’re probably happier in life if you can forget things." For saying, "You can count on your kids until adolescence. Once they start to come into their adulthood they start to feel their oats, then, all of a sudden, it’s a different story." Thanks for making me feel gross about oats. And thanks for not dying yet, because I'm definitely not done roasting you over the coals of your own infernal sins!!!

The Walking Dead, which I have previously described as a "hot, rotten banana sliced in half and filled with garbage and then sewn back together," never disappoints when it comes to oozing hot, rotten banana juice. Thanks, The Walking Dead, for being willing to indiscriminately murder female characters for ratings boosts, and for continuing to use rape as a plot device. Never stop being you!

Thank you, HBO, for being so consistently confused by your own vision that you created a show capitalizing on rape and unmitigated violence, then created another show criticizing shows capitalizing on rape and unmitigated violence. Thank you for showing us tits but then being like, "No, what's happening to this woman is bad! We condemn it! Still, here are tits." And thank you, in advance, for The Young Pope.

Johnny, you were never my favorite, what with your "Raggedy Andy on pills" vibe and your cavalcade of terrible films. But this year you truly took it to the next level, responding to your wife's claims of abuse by roaming around the world with your "band" and leaving it to your filthy bros to defend you, winning the Pettiness Olympics by giving Amber's settlement money to charity "on her behalf," then somehow still managing to come out on top publicly. Thanks for the reminder that rich, powerful white men can't really be brought down ever. You were a lovely appetizer for Trump.

Michael Bay, thank you for continuing to explode everything, including your own public image. Thanks for misunderstanding the female brain so thoroughly as to totally alienate your female audience while actively trying not to totally alienate your female audience. You make my job easy.

Thank you, Starbucks, for pulling back the curtain on this insidious conspiracy, for revealing that, back in the '90s, Harvey Weinstein locked Jodie Foster and Helen Hunt in a padded room (the room that would eventually compel Foster to make Panic Room) and instructed them to fight to the death. This really is as good as it gets!

Thank you, entire movie industry, for being so profligately backward and deranged that you have created a universe in which a 34-year-old Oscar-winning goddess can be cast as the lover of a 49-year-old racist flesh sack. Thank you for sapping any remaining sex drive from the American people by forcing us to imagine this coupling.

Thanks, this mop with sunglasses, for stepping in when 28-year-old Elizabeth Banks was too aged and decrepit to play opposite the sprightly 27-year-old Tobey Maguire. Your chemistry was palpable. You should give Tobey a call; he's single now.